


Flying High

by kat8cha



Series: Kat8Cha's Tumblr Drabbles [1]
Category: DCU (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, also many apologies, characters tagged show up more than once, if a warning is necessitated the chapter title will have it, most of these are gen but some are EXPLICITLY not, pairings tagged show up more than once
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-12 11:51:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 44
Words: 19,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16872426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kat8cha/pseuds/kat8cha
Summary: A collection of DCU drabbles posted to my tumblr from 2011-2018.Each chapter will contain a title, the pairing, and a rating. If warnings are necessary they will also be added.





	1. City Life (Tim/Kon, G, casual ableism)

**Author's Note:**

> APOLOGIES TO ANYONE WHO HAS SEEN THIS FIC POP UP SEVERAL TIMES. I'm doing my best but I only want to post this ONCE and I have to go through my tumblr to find all my fic and uggggggggh.
> 
> Apologies also if you're here for That One Pairing and it's all you want to read. As I said, pairings will be in the chapter titles. If I have missed something, please send me a message so I can amend it.

A city was defined by its heroes and it defined them as well. Cities could exist on their own, supported by the hard working everyday Joe and Jane, or they could lean on the broad shoulders of metas and vigilantes. Gotham was a city that leaned further than the Leaning Tower of Piza and needed all the help it could get, and yet Gotham’s superheroes were men and women that were almost Joe and Jane, they were normal completely and utterly, except for their commitment to saving the city from itself.

And their commitment issues with having a normal life outside of that.

“It’s not like I mind tracking you down.” Kon soared alongside Tim and his Ducati easily, both of them swerving to avoid Gotham rush hour traffic. Gotham’s rush hour peaked at 6 and continue to turn the streets into parking lots until after midnight. “It’s good practice.” Tim took a sharp turn, right into the side of the car they were tracking. Kon hovered above while Tim dealt with and disabled the men he had been chasing.

Around them Gotham drivers honked and shouted obscenities. Kon waited until the ‘evildoers’, who looked younger than he was, were all tied up and tied down and then he lifted the car into the air. “Where to?”

“Police station.”

The xar radio blaring the criminal's terrible taste in music was the only noise, that and the music of Gotham itself, until Kon had set the car down in a no parking zone and Robin had placed a post-it note of the subjects offenses on the window shield. Not like the cops wouldn’t be able to figure it out, the trunk load of meth was kind of obvious.

“So, like I was saying.” The noise of the motorcycle’s engine should have overpowered Kon’s words but he was sure Tim could hear him. “I’ve gotten pretty good at it, so if you ever end up playing Boy Hostage, I think I’ll be able to find you.”

Tim snorted, quiet and almost invisible next to the thrum of the bike, and Kon smiled. “But it’s kind of a pain in the ass to do this every time you don’t answer your phone.”

“You would almost think that me not answering my phone means I’m _busy_.” Tim steered the bike through abandoned alleys, past garbage, rats, and alley cats. “Was there something important you wanted to talk about, Superboy?”

“It’s not a matter of life or death.” Kon hedged, only to be rewarded with Tim stopping the bike and giving him a look. The bike idled like a purring cat. “It’s more of an out of costume conversation. Or a behind closed walls conversation.” Kon paused, and then glanced up at the sky. “Or a ‘where no one who would conceivably tattle on me to the people involved can listen in’ conversation.”

The bike roared, and Kon had to put on a burst of speed to catch up.

“We’ll head to the cave and you can tell me more there.” A beat, “You are totally messing up my schedule.”

Kon would have grinned, but he would have gotten bugs in his teeth. “Dude, I live to mess up your carefully ordered life. You’re so OCD.“


	2. Goop (Ted Kord/Booster Gold, M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Booster whines about getting goop'ed by the monster of the week, then he and Ted have shower sex.

Booster liked showering after a mission, he especially liked showering after one of those missions that left you covered in goop. It was never even normal goop, not like mud or jello or snot it was always alien or magic goop.

 

“I’m never getting this stuff out of my hair.” Booster moaned as he dumped the last of his shampoo onto his head and went back to scrubbing. He could almost get his fingers through his lustrous locks now but huge clumps were stuck together with the magical goop of doom. “My perfect hair! Ruined forever in the line of duty! Now I’ll never get a Loreal commercial!”

There was a wet thud from the stall next to Booster’s which almost, almost, made him shut up. Luckily he knew it was just Ted and not, like, Batman or Guy.

“J'onn asked me if my hair was thinning yesterday. I bet it’ll be thinning after-”

Thump, slap, slap, slap.

“-thi-”

Thud, CRASH, Booster jerked around when the door to his shower stall was tossed unceremoniously against the wall and Ted stood in the spot recently vacated by the door in all of his naked soapy glory.

Mmm, naked glory.

“Will you shut up about your hair?” Ted’s feet slapped against the slick tiles of the washroom as he stepped into Booster’s shower stall, the door to the stall fell shut behind him closing with a barely heard thump and click. “It’s not like we all didn’t get magical goop on us. _My_ hair is fine.”

Booster pouted. “But you have like, thick and rugged _past_ hair. It’s practically croma-”

A wet hand pressed over Booster’s mouth, cutting Booster off mid-sentence and mid-word again. Ted glared up at Booster (he was far, far too short to glare down at Booster after all) and with the hand over Booster’s mouth and a hand now placed on Booster’s chest, pushed Booster up against the slippery shower wall.

“Mmph?” Booster questioned, soapy and goopy water falling across his forehead and almost getting into his eyes before Booster flicked his head to the side, flipping his hair out of his face.

“If you say one more word about your hair, I’m going to shave it off.” Ted threatened before he released Booster’s mouth. Booster made a show out of wiggling his jaw, stretching his mouth, and looking considering at Ted while the shower pounded around them and steam started to make everything go hazy.

“Well, if you want me to shut up…” Booster licked his lips. “You should put something in my mouth!”

Ted didn’t even look stunned, in fact he looked completely unsurprised and maybe even a little like he’d been expecting Booster to say that. Was Booster losing his touch? But the surprise sex! Life was boring without surprise sex! Wanting to keep any possible surprise he might have Booster quickly dropped to his knees and placed his hands on Ted’s slightly soapy thighs. Ted’s disco stick twitched and Booster eyed it for a second before he grabbed hold of it with one hand and stroked.

Water wasn’t good lubricant, not for handjobs, but that wasn’t what Booster was going for anyway. After two strokes (just enough to get Ted hard and bracing himself against the shower wall) Booster opened his mouth and sucked Ted in. Then it was a matter of sucking, and slurping, his head bobbing up and down while Ted began to murmur, then mutter, then rumble curse words and praise.

“Booster, damn, ah, ah, oh so good, Boost, nnn…” And so it went, Booster’s head bobbing back and forth while Ted leaned his forearms against the wall and his head against his forearms. "Boost, mm, gonna…" Ted’s fingers pried into the thick mess of hair and goop and shampoo to tug Booster back. Booster let Ted drag him off and squeezed his eyes shut, he timed the flick of his tongue just right to catch the tip of Ted’s penis at just the right time.

Semen splattered his face and Ted’s shout echoed off the shower walls.

“It’s a good thing we’re in the shower room!” Booster wiped the cum off his skin and attempted to stand. Ted’s fingers caught in his hair and both men winced. “…uh, Ted?”

“…” Ted jerked on the hand stuck in the mess of Booster’s hair and widened his eyes. “Uh oh.”


	3. Buns & Bacon (Wally & Roy, T, Underage)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YJ Cartoon - no sex happens but that's why the underage tag
> 
> Wally loves crashing at Roy's because not only does he get breakfast, he also gets a show.

It wasn’t news to Wally that Roy was not a morning person. Roy was not an anything person. The only reason he could be considered a night person was because it was the time of day he was the least grumpy but considering how grumpy he was all the time this wasn’t saying much. Wally wasn’t much of a morning person either although he woke up fast comparatively but time and body processes for Wally moved a lot faster than time moved for anyone else. For Wally, that gruesome hour of waking up was compacted into a really horrible fifteen minutes, tops. Roy seemed to wake up slower than most people.

It was why sleeping over at Roy’s always lead to one of the most glorious, glorious, glorious manners of waking up possible, which made sleeping on the lumpy couch and the complaints of the night before all worth it. Roy might protest but he never turned Wally down once Wally turned on the puppy eyes, and thankfully he also never _noticed_ why Wally wanted to stay over.

It was a sunny Sunday morning, the birds outside of the apartment building were cheeping, cars in the street were honking, and the bacon in the pan was sizzling. Wally faked a sleepy murmur and rolled onto his stomach, careful to slip his hands under the pillow and prop his face up a little as he slitted his eyes open.

The apron was purple (Roy’s secret favorite color) and frilly. It had probably been bought as a gag gift by someone over the years and Wally was almost, almost, grateful enough to find out whom and send them a long thank you note. There were blue arrows on the front, but those weren’t of any interest to Wally, what interested Wally was the back.

Roy slept naked.

Wally had never asked why, or where he’d picked up the habit, or if it was comfortable. He’d only found out by chance two months ago when, suffering delusions from a super-villain who had dealt in psychotropic hypnosis, he had burst into Roy’s bedroom to reassure himself that his friend was alive. Roy had toppled out of bed, completely naked, with an arrow pointed straight at Wally and already in the bow.

Did Wally mention the naked?

Wally hadn’t found out the gloriousness of Roy’s naked cooking until the first time he’d slept over, three weeks ago. When Roy woke up he shambled into the kitchen to turn on his dingy coffee pot, then he would shamble into the shower. In the ten minutes it took Roy to take care of his morning toilette Wally had stared at the cracked ceiling of Roy’s apartment repeating the word ‘ass’ to himself until Roy had shambled out of the shower to down his first cup of coffee.

He wore a towel for the first cup of coffee, but that towel was hung back up in the bathroom after the first cup and then the apron was donned before anything hit the frying pan.

And the naked continued.

The bacon was lifted onto a plate and Roy cracked some eggs into a bowl. Wally let his eyes slip to half-mast and tried not to smile too wide.

Breakfast at Roy’s was officially his favorite way to wake up.


	4. Kryptonite (Tim/Kon, M, Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Touching, Somnophilia)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After breaking up a meta-human sex ring, Kon can't control his actions and Tim should have known better than to share his bed. 
> 
> (NO SEX HAPPENS BUT IT'S CLOSE)

If Tim hadn’t needed to be undercover this wouldn’t have happened. If Kon hadn’t managed (somehow, always) to get himself into trouble it also wouldn’t have happened. But Tim had needed to protect Kon and make sure that his best friend didn’t manage to get himself hurt (one day Tim was going to destroy every bit of Kryptonite on the planet it would be the same day he danced naked in a rainstorm, the probability of the latter was more likely than the former) because what they were dealing with were organized super-villains doing the bidding of Lex Luthor with easy access to Kryptonite.

That and an underground meta-human cloning and sex slave ring.

Which, honestly, Tim found extremely creepy.

Thinking about the glassy eyed clones he’d helped out of a van yesterday was doing nothing to make his erection go down though. Not even thinking about Bruce’s lecture on safe sex (delivered to Tim after Steph had made out with him in the middle of a delicate operation) was going to make his erection go down.

Not with Kon doing that.

Wet heat pressed against his bare neck, Kon’s mouth moving as he mumbled things in his sleep. If Kon had been laying on, oh, his back, or even on his front, Tim might try to figure out what he was saying. As it was Kon was lying on his side and murmuring dream nonsense against Tim’s neck so Tim was a little distracted.

A little.

“Haa…” Tim let out a slow, careful, breath. The steel arm wrapped around his chest didn’t tighten, it didn’t even shift, it didn’t have to. Tim was cradled against Kon’s body closer than a teddy bear by a traumatized two year old. It hadn’t been so bad when it was just the cuddling. Kon had started slow, an arm thrown over Tim’s chest, curling up against Tim’s body, and he’d whined whenever Tim had tried to push him away. That was how it had started.

The hand on Tim’s crotch pressed, gentle pressure, almost a massage.

Tim let out another careful breath and tried very, very hard not to come in his pants while his best friend sleep molested him.

He tried, and was, very, very, very hard.

It took close to an hour of careless molestation, Kon’s half-hard erection digging into Tim’s thighs every now and then when Kon’s hips rocked forward, before Tim’s willpower cracked and he came in his pajama pants. After that he had wrenched Kon’s arms open and stumbled into the bathroom, ignoring Kon’s half-awake questions of ‘is there trouble? What’s wrong?’ By the time he had finished cleaning up and come back out of the bathroom Kon was asleep again.

This time, Tim took the chair.


	5. Fogged Windows (Bruce Wayne/Oliver Queen, M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce believes in rigorous training.

The windows of the car were starting to fog, which Ollie took as a blessing because the last thing he wanted was some cop or crook peering into the windows and seeing what was going on. Not that it would compromise either of them, they were undercover, but it was a privacy thing. Ollie had been called a lot of things that he was but one of the things he had been called that he wasn’t was an exhibitionist. Sex was a behind closed doors deal, and that was that.

“Oliver.” The hot breath wasn’t in his ear, it wasn’t even being breathed across his face, it was just a guttural, deep growl accompanied by calloused hands pulling his ass flush against Bruce’s hips. Ollie groaned and bucked. He hated it when Bruce did that, hated it and loved it at the same time, like most of what happened once Bruce’s hand slipped down Ollie’s pants. “You’re not focusing.”

“How’m I supposed to focus…” Ollie’s eyebrows drew together and he squeezed around Bruce. The ghoul didn’t even have the decency to look strained. “…with a dick up my ass?”

Rough hands flipped him around and Ollie swore loudly.

One day, he was going to be on top, he was going to screw the Bat so hard.

“You should be prepared to focus,” another slow, deep thrust, the kind that pressed just right and rubbed along his prostate in the best of ways, “no matter the circumstances.”

“Screw…” Ollie growled into the seat cushion as he pushed himself up onto his elbows and thrust back against Bruce, this time he at least got a small, suppressed gasp. “ _You_ , Bruce.”

“Mmm.”

God _damn_ , he hated the man.


	6. Goopy (Roy Harper/Jason Todd, T, implied tentacle sex)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason can't keep himself together around Roy.

The first time he’d seen Jason go all goopy (there was really no other word for it) Roy could admit he had been a little freaked. Kory seemed to take it in stride and Jason didn’t seem to have any problem putting himself back together even though a second ago his ‘hand’ had been halfway across the room and his hair had been sliding down his back. So, Roy got over it, even if he freaked out again the first time he saw Jason eat a guy.

That was a little easier to get over since the guy was trash and well, he was Oliver Queen’s son, if they were going to dispose of trash they should do it in an environmentally friendly manner.

But Jason going goopy wasn’t contained to the playing field.

Roy kicked his foot, dislodging a goopy tendril from his ankle. The tentacle came back and wrapped around tighter, than higher, giving Roy the sensation that his foot was captured by a sentient roll of dough. “Seriously?” Mumbling into the pillow and rolling over didn’t do anything to dissuade Jason who slowly pressed himself against Roy. It was like a full body dough massage. “Okay, fine.” Roy rolled over and pressed himself up against Jason’s tentacle/goopy form, leaving an imprint, and tried to ignore the fact that Jason’s eyes were slowly drifting apart. “But if you’re still goopy after one round I’m tossing you in the shower and washing you down the drain.”


	7. Red Hot (Koriand'r/Jason Todd/Roy Harper, M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starfire burns, Roy's chilly, and Jason's stuck in the middle.

Starfire burns.

Not just in the field, where she burns red hot across the sky, starbolts flying at their enemies faster than she does, the energy trail left in her wake burning like fire. Jason can’t stare too long at that fire, can’t focus on her body as she moves through the black-suited kevlar covered ops forces like they’re nothing. She’s a Fury out of legend, a vision of orange and purple and red, red, red.

She burns. Quick and destructive, like a brush fire, a crack of thunder and streak of lightning heralding destruction for anyone in their way.

In contrast, Arsenal’s cool. He hangs back, just far enough he’s out of most of the destruction, picking off targets with unerring precision. It’s almost like watching a sniper in a video game, pow, pow, pow. Three targets go done, arrows planted in their bodies, explosions are triggered, concussions earned. When he does move in he doesn’t waste movement, he picks up arrows as he moves, uses them and his bow as weapons, and when nothing is within reach he uses his hands, his fists, his head.

He’s a river, slow at first, but picking up speed until you hit the rapids and then… then you don’t know what hit you at all.

Jason’s neither. He doesn’t have any sweet words for what he is, stuck in the middle between water and fire. He’s earth, he’s mud, he’s the cohesiveness of this fucked up little non-family. During a fight, when he’s firing rounds into bodies that hit the ground and stay there (dead), during reconnaissance when he’s pulling a mask over his face and dodging video cameras, or after a mission when they curl up on a bed, on a couch, against a wall… he’s in the middle, he’s not cool or hot, he’s lukewarm and sticky, his fingers deep in Kory’s burning core, fingers slick and slippery when they pull on a condom before he thrusts inside.

Hot.

He’s never ready when Harper slips fingers inside of him, covered in lube and slippery but still thick and hard to take.

Cold.

They all pant, they all move, there’s no rhythm set up, just the desperate ‘uhn uhn uhn’ and thump thump thump of three bodies moving at random trying to get off.


	8. Unicorn Arse (Roy + Jason, T, swearing, guns, mentions of violence)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's Unicorns in his gun room and Heads in Roy's freezer.

Jason had found that full names were annoying, Starfire shortened to Star, Roy became Red (or Arse when Jason was in a funny mood) and Jason himself became either ‘Jay’ or 'Hood’. Lian was, of course, just Lian although Jason liked to call her 'pest’ and 'midget’ and all sorts of other names inside of his head he couldn’t say out loud because Harper was a bitch when his baby was insulted.

Bitch.

“RED. KEEP YOUR KID OUT OF MY GUNROOM!” There were unicorns painted everywhere.

“KEEP YOUR DISEMBODIED HEADS OUT OF MY FREEZER. KORY BOUGHT YOU A MINI-FRIDGE FOR THEM.”

Jason folded his arms across his chest and snorted. Yeah, sure, but when Jason needed to store the head for a few days it went all gross in the mini-fridge. “IT"S MY FREEZER.” Some days he wondered if working with Kory and Harper was worth it. Sure, they helped him out, and yeah, they were on the run too, and okay so it was nice having people around who could cover his back without wanting to kill him and they made good eye candy and Dick was probably suffering from nightmares because of it…

“YOU DON’T COOK, HENCE, MY KITCHEN, MY FREEZER.”

And Harper was a mean cook (and made a mean chili) and Kory could drink them both under the table.

So, well, they had their uses.

But they were still annoying.

“UNICORNS, YOU ARSE."


	9. Illegal Interest (Lex/Roy, YJ Cartoon, T)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex is covetous.

AND THEN THERE WAS THIS. Oh, man, didn’t even realize I had an inner Lex.

Speedy… no, wait, Red Arrow was really…

Well, Lex wasn’t a sidekick sort. No, no, there were villains (not that Lex considered himself a villain, he was fighting for humanity) who enjoyed toying with sidekicks, the kind who kidnapped a sidekick and dangled him over some ridiculous doom and waited for the ‘hero’ to show up to rescue their 'chum’ but that wasn’t Lex. Oh, granted, sometimes his business practices ended up being dangerously compromised by Lois Lane or 'Superman’s Pal’ Jimmy Olson… but that wasn’t dangling Robin over a vat of acid and lighting a batsignal outside of a warehouse. He never lured Lois in.

Although he did occasionally have her tied up. The woman was a nuisance and a danger, she just did not know what was best for her.

He could see the appeal, however. Red Arrow was a very attractive young man, his arms were distractingly attractive and the thigh holsters on his pants only drew attention to his muscular rear. Lex had to wonder if that was the point. So many 'superhero’ costumes were terribly… provocative. Take Wonder Woman’s outfit, how was a man supposed to pay attention to the message she wished to send when she exposed so much flesh? Of course it probably helped her score easy hits on those men who couldn’t focus with the head above their shoulders and not below their waist.

Lex was not one of those men.

“I trust,” He said to Mercy when Ra’s had left, “that you ran young 'Mister Arrows’ face and voice through our database?”

“Facial structure matches one Roy Harper.” Files were brought up on Lex’s computer, a name, a face, and of course more information that was strictly legal for him to have on hand. He steepled his fingers and smiled slightly.

“Excellent.”

No, he was not the type to go after sidekicks.

But then, Red Arrow was not a 'sidekick’ anymore, now was he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written like... really shortly after YJ premiered. Probably a few episodes into the first season. Looking back on it, and what I know of what happened later, the line 'didn't go after sidekicks' because RETROACTIVELY HILARIOUS.


	10. Swimming with Dolphins (Roy/Kaldur, YJ Cartoon, T)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy and Kaldur go swimming with dolphins, that's it that's the fic.

“I’m not so sure about this…” Roy is waist deep in the water, the waves lapping at his stomach and the wet suit clinging to his skin. Kaldur smiles at him, one hand stroking the fins of various dolphins when they swim close to him. Roy has his arms folded across his chest and is looking uncomfortable and unconvinced. Dolphins were awfully… toothy and unlike some people he hadn’t grown up swimming with predators.

Kaldur’s smile faded into a solemn look and he nodded, once, at Roy. “If you are scared-”

“I’m not scared!” The denial was automatic and irritated. Roy was tempted to kick the water but… dolphins, teeth, right. Instead he unfolded his arms and let one hand drift idly through the water, one friendly dolphin butted against it and Roy… froze before he stroked along the dolphin’s back. “I’m just not… sure about this.”

“You trust me,” Kaldur questioned, utterly serene like he couldn’t possibly doubt the answer, “don’t you?”

Roy met Kaldur’s gaze, he knew that if he waited too long any answer he gave would sound like a lie whether it was one or not. “Yes,” because, no matter how he felt about Ollie or the Justice League… he trusted Kaldur and he trusted the team, “I trust you.”

Kaldur stroked a hand over the dorsal fin of one of the dolphins, pleased when the animal stayed still, and then he waved Roy over. "Let us get going.“

–

Roy looked good wet. There were things Kaldur had learned to appreciate since coming to the surface, in Atlantis everyone was ‘wet’ all the time but things looked different underwater than they did on land. On land many people could not 'pull off’ the 'wet look’. Roy, however, could. Water dampened his hair, washing out the gel he used to stick it up, and way water clung to him highlighted every plain and valley of his body. The dolphin pod moved easily around them, calling out to each other and playing, the two dolphins Roy and Kaldur were holding onto cut through the waves with confidence.

Roy laughed when a wave splashed him in the face, further messing up his hair and without his mask it would no doubt have gotten sea water in his eyes. Kaldur released his dolphin and thanked it in Atlantean for the ride, Roy seemed all too willing to let go of his dolphin.

The pod chittered and left them, swimming towards where they no doubt had heard a school of fish. They Kaldur easily swam towards Roy who was looking around now to find where exactly they were.

It took seconds for Kaldur to swirl the water around Roy and lift them both above the waves. "Is this better?”

Roy’s eyes were wide for only a matter of seconds before he got control of his reactions and narrowed them at Kaldur. “I’m still in the middle of the ocean standing on nothing but water.”

Mount Justice looked large on the horizon behind Roy, Kaldur motioned to it with a sweep of one arm. When Roy turned to look Kaldur took the opportunity to step up behind the redhead and place a hand on his shoulder and the other on Roy’s hip. Roy twitched slightly but tipped his head to the side and let Kaldur whisper in his ear.

“Do you trust me?”

Roy snorted, a reaction that sent good tingles through Kaldur’s body. “You’re really not that subtle… yes, I trust you.”


	11. Smoking in Space (Jason + Kyle + Donna, T)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sci-Fi AU, Jason's a space pirate, Kyle and Donna are just along for the ride.

The Challenger was a Hood class starship, a classic ship that was good for up to five crewmembers and had plenty of room for storage. Not only that but it was easily customizable which made it a favorite model among those who called themselves ‘pirates’. Jason was a fan of the Hood class, sure, it wasn’t the Titan (Mark I, II, II, IV…) but not every ship could be a Team class and outfitted for deep space exploration. Jason preferred the Challenger anyway, it was comfy.

Plus you could fit a Mask under a Hood and Jason always made sure to have a Mask, just in case.

“For Oa’s sake are you smoking again?” Rayner, champion complainer (Jason snickered when he realized that rhymed) peered into the piloting chamber with the kind of frown he always wore around Jason. Jason’d worry that Rayner was constantly constipated or something except he knew from experience that every goody-two-shoes he dealt with wore that frown. Bruce, all of his 'brothers’, the variety of Gotham trained not-quite-antiheroes he had dealt with while making a name for himself… yeah, and then there was Rayner, former Corps and current space pirate.

How the mighty had fallen.

“No matter how much you complain,” Jason blew a puff of smoke in Rayner’s face before he stubbed the cigarette out in an ashtray. He was almost finished anyway. “I’m not about to stop, Rayner. Donna doesn’t mind.”

“I do mind.” Donna Troy had been part of Dick’s original Teen Titan crew and Jason was mentally basking in being able to steal her away, even if she was probably going to go goody-goody after a couple of nice paychecks and run off with Rayner to make space babies or something. She, at least, had experience as a space pirate. The Darkstars were something else. “But you don’t let that stop you either.”

The cockpit was tiny and cramped with two people it was almost impossible to breathe with three. Jason made the best of it, shoving his elbows places where no one wanted elbows shoved and leaning back in his captain’s chair. “My ship, my rules, and oh look, there’s my paycheck.” The Black Mask’s mercantile vessel was coming up on the scanner, a steady blip just on the edge of their reach.

“Our paycheck.” Donna slipped into the co-pilots chair and pressed all right places to make her side of the panel light up. Kyle retreated to the corridor outside before heading back to the gunnery like a good boy. “Can’t we come up on her any faster?”

“You only had to ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> should be noted cigarettes in space are a bad idea and i often write characters smoking in space it doesn't stop the fact that both smoking regularly and smoking in space are BAD IDEAS, also i didn't know about vaping when i wrote this, vaping is probably less dangerous to do in space
> 
> still, PSA, smoking is bad for you


	12. Singular Question (Renee/Helena, G)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Huntress has a Question

Helena lay tangled in the sheets of her bedding, the ceiling fan whirring overhead the room’s only thing saving the room from clogging up with hot, muggy Gotham heat. Helena twisted, her legs tangling even further around the rumpled week old bed sheet. Her sheets needed changing, they hadn’t gotten to the point where they were starting to smell or anything but they needed to be changed. Not that it mattered, no one but Helena had been in Helena’s bed for close to a month.

Which was kind of unusual for her but she hadn’t been feeling the need lately for a casual fling or a tumble with an old friend.

The window creaked and jostled as it was pushed open, a noisy catburgler crawling into Helena’s bedroom. Which was stupid, no catburgler would have been that noisy and no idiot would have crawled into Helena’s bedroom. Helena knew who it was, anyway, she’d been waiting for Renee to come in for close to half an hour, feigning sleep that she wasn’t going to get until the rain clouds overhead burst and sent the city down ten degrees.

“I hate Gotham.” Renee began, conversationally. “And I know you’re not asleep.”

“Wow, two statements.” Helena rolled over onto her back and kicked at the tangled sheet so it curled up at the end of her bed like a dead python. “Two whole statements and only one question in sight.” Oh ugh, not again. Not even Vic had gotten her to make so many puns.

“And a pink elephant.” The hat got plopped down on the knob at the foot of the bed, the coat hit the floor and then Renee plopped down on the bed and toed off her shoes. Then she flopped down on the bed next to Renee, the two of them stared in tandem up at the whirling room fan.

“I thought it just had to be an elephant, does pink make it an extra special one?” Okay, so the little dance around the question (or elephant) was fun and neither of them seemed to want to actually broach the question (elephant) so it was a battle of wills as well. 

“Not really.” Then Renee was rolling on top of Helena even though it was _far_ too hot. “But I’m willing to ride it if you are.”

“I don’t even know what that _means_.” Helena complained before grasping Renee’s short hair and pulling the woman into a kiss.

At least there hadn’t been any question puns made.

Yet.


	13. Dishabille (Tim/Kon, M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Kon have sex against a wall.

The wall was the logical choice.

Tim slammed Kon up against the wall and sunk to his knees. Superboy’s fly was child’s play and Tim peeled the jeans down to Kon’s thighs before bracing himself with his hands on either side of Kon’s hips and staring. Both of them were panting hard, from the fight, from both of them holding back and then giving in. Tim’s lips are bruised, the bite marks and bruises and scratches on Kon’s skin are fading fast, but this, this Tim can make an impact on.

He wraps one gauntleted hand around Kon’s dick.

“Geeze.” Kon hissed and arched his back. The rough stucco would have scratched anyone else; points were ground to dust under the movement of Kon’s shoulders leaving a fine dust over his black t-shirt and bare ass. “Man, Tim, geeze.” He cut himself off with a groan when Tim rubbed the rough pad of his thumb over the tip of his erection.

“Don’t you ever take your gloves off?”

Tim glanced up at Kon and smirked. “Be glad I took off the cowl.”

Then he licked a stripe down the side of Kon’s cock and planted a kiss on his balls while continuing to fondle the tip. The string of swear words that tumbled from Kon’s lips would have been difficult for someone who had that human vulnerability of needing to breathe, the words kept tumbling as Tim fondled Kon’s balls and breathed over them, his lips occasionally brushing cock or balls but never staying for longer than a brief touch while his hands played Kon like a violin.

“C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, please, Tim, is that what you want?” Tim stopped fondling Kon which prompted another string of swear words and looked up at his best friend, the guy he loved, someone who he would die for.

Who he might even kill for, if it ever came to that. It was a scary thought but Tim had come to terms with it.

“I do like the sound of you begging.” Tim licked his lips before he placed the lightest of kisses on Kon’s erection.

“Please”


	14. Birds of a Feather (Dick/Roy, M, underage, voyeurism)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU where Dick is Dinah's sidekick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> underage tag because fuck, IDEK what age I intended them to be.
> 
> First bit was written for a 3 Sentence Prompt response, second for... yet another prompt.

It’s not the guy was just super hot or anything, though he had legs that went on forever and an ass that was made for spandex and don’t get Roy started on his face or his stupid blue eyes or the wave of his hair, but he was smart too. Robin (and not even bird jokes fazed the guy) was smart enough to think CIRCLES around Roy, which was probably why he and Robin were always sniping at each other. And no, they did not fight like an old married couple, okay, Ollie?!

\--

Roy’s not really undercover. It’s Star City and while not everyone recognizes ‘Roy Harper, Oliver Queen’s ward’ there’s too many people who _do_ for him to risk going undercover without a wig and either a dorky pair of glasses or some makeup. Something. Dick _is_ undercover even though no one’s going to recognize Dick Grayson, Dinah Lance’s ward despite everything. Despite the fact that Dick is memorable and gorgeous and any number of other things. Dick’s pushing Roy back up against the couch with his tongue down Roy’s throat and it’s _good_. Roy wants to tug at Dick’s fake blonde hair but Dick’s got his hands pinned up against the couch’s armrests.

He could fight the grip, he could, but it’s easy enough to just go along with it all, to let Dick touch him and fondle him and pretend to be ‘Bobby’ a really aggressive dancer at the new gay bar that opened up that was tied to the really sleazy guy watching them from the other side of the office. He’s probably got cameras somewhere recording this whole thing so he can touch himself while watching them later.

He’s not touching them now, he’s just watching, and Roy can’t focus on the guy when Dick is sucking on his neck like a leech. He doesn’t know if DICK is focusing on the guy and he doesn’t understand how Dick _could_ focus on the guy when one slim hand is undoing Roy’s belt and slipping his fly down so Dick can rub his calloused palm over Roy’s briefs.

His orgasm surprises him and not just because he’s embarrassingly fast about it. He didn’t actually think he could… with Dick touching him like… well, with _Dick_ touching him not to mention the sleazy guy watching it all.

“Auditions over.” The sleazy guys says, leering at them while Roy pants and Dick hides his face against the side of Roy’s neck. “You two are in.”


	15. Bait (Kyle/Connor, T, prostitution)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To avoid putting the 'starving' in 'artist', Kyle moonlights as an escort. Connor is an up and coming Senator.

Kyle knows that he’s bait the minute his boss at the escort company gives him a call and tells him where to go. He thinks, briefly, about turning the job down but he’s curious. He’s not really sure who he’s bait for because there’s a lot of political types running around town that week.

He’s got a pretty good idea though.

When he picks up the hotel key Kyle makes sure to pretend he’s not paying attention to the desk clerk’s face or his name tag, he does a quick sketch in his notebook on the elevator ride up though, just hedging his bets, just in case. He’s had a few close calls in the business that were only held off because Kyle was always ready and willing to blackmail someone else in order to get himself out of a jam. Not a client though, never a client.

The room is posh but not too posh. It’s not a suite, which kind of surprises Kyle, he was pretty sure that politicians, especially senators running for president, ran with a posse. Maybe he hasn’t been laid out like cheese in a mouse trap, maybe this really is a legit job. Kyle has a moment to sit down on the bed and consider this before the door is unlocked and opened by someone else.

Connor Hawke hesitates in the threshold before glancing behind him and excusing himself. Kyle doesn’t get a chance to see who was behind Connor because the man steps into the room and closes the door quickly, too quick for anyone else to have spotted Kyle. “Am I in the wrong room?” Connor asks, like his luggage isn’t stacked tidily in one corner with the next day’s suit hanging in the closet by the door.

There had been rumors, of course, there always were especially when the guy is someone like Connor. Connor Hawke is an independent and in the days of Democrats vs. Republicans it’s impressive that he’s gotten as far as he has. He has a legitimate shot at ending up in the White House and that has people running scared. His opponents have dug up every little rumor they can, from his school yard fights to calling him a heathen for his time in a Buddhist monastery. They’ve even questioned his citizenship and attempted to discredit everything from his birth certificate to Oliver Queen’s paternity test. They’d criticized his age, his length of time in the political ring, and his lack of first lady… and then his lack of girlfriends in general

Which is why Kyle was sitting on Connor’s bed just like half a dozen escorts in half a dozen cities across the country. Kyle’s heard about it, he’s got the internet and eventually everything ends up on the internet but from what he knew those guys were tossed out of the rooms almost as soon as the door was opened. “Hi.” Kyle says, his brain derailed by 1) politics and 2) the fact that Connor Hawke is a hottie. All the pictures really didn’t do him justice. “No, you’re in the right room, uh, Senator Hawke.”

Connor undoes his bright green tie and hangs it carelessly on a tie rack. Then he takes off his suit jacket and rolls up his sleeves, a scene Kyle’s seen on youtube more times than he can count. Kyle licks his lips and tries not to… hope or something.

“Connor.”

Kyle snaps his head around, suddenly aware that he had been staring at the fabulous way the senator’s ass filled out his suit pants. “Connor?”

Connor’s eyes crinkle slightly when he smiles. “Connor, when we’re in my hotel room you can at least call me by my first name.” Connor unbuttons the two buttons of his oxford and then walks over to the arm chair in the corner of the room. Kyle can’t help himself, he stares.

“…did you actually call for an escort?” Kyle blurts out, confused. He’d been positive it was a hoax or a trap. Connor’s smile get a little wider and wow, wow, wow, the guy was in the wrong field there was no way that a guy that pretty could ever be President.

“No, but I think either my adviser or my opponents did.” Connor leans back and sighs, the sigh of someone who is bone weary and just wants to go to sleep. “I’m starting to wonder if I shouldn’t just give in.” Green eyes pin Kyle to the bed. “So what’s your name?”

‘Kevin’ is on the tip of Kyle’s tongue but it’s unfortunately crowded out by; “Kyle, uh, my name’s Kyle.” Kevin is the name on the website, the name he gives to client’s so they don’t look up ‘Kyle Rayner, artist’ and pester Kyle at his home or his other workplace. “So… are you going to give in?”

Connor looks at him, really looks at him, and then shakes his head. It’s stupid the fact that Kyle is disappointed. “Not when you’re being paid for it, Kyle. But…” And then Connor is scribbling on a business card before handing it over. “Give me a call when you’re off the clock.”

It’s a stupid move, politically, and Kyle knows he should reject it even as his fingers grasp the card and he tucks it into his pocket. He knows that he should throw it away even as he avoids the paparazzi and doesn’t implicate Connor in any kind of scandal and he knows he shouldn’t call even when, a week later after resigning from the escort company, he presses the keys on his cellphone with shaking fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite the fact that Kyle's an escort I really feel like rating this 'T' is overkill. Anyway, if you think Senator Hawke seems super smooth and flirtatious and OOC... you're not wrong. But also, Connor spends the next three days silently screaming to himself. HE CAN'T BELIEVE HE SAID THAT. He'd meant to say that he was thinking about coming out to the news media, not that he was going to sleep with the really cute escort.
> 
> Needless to say, ha ha, ho ho, his entire family has a FIELD day when this comes out.


	16. Silk (Kaldur/Roy, Young Justice Cartoon, M, Bondage)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaldur is frustrated that Roy keeps turning away from him.

Roy was turning away from him, again, and leaving, again and this time Kaldur was not going to let him. ‘You can’t give me what I want’ was… was foolish. How could Roy know what Kaldur could or would give if he never gave him the chance? It’s anger that makes him draw his water bearers, it’s training that allows him to draw from the water around them and shape it to his will, it’s desperation, lust, love, and friendship that has him coil the water into a whip. The water hits Roy’s wrist and forms a manacle.

Roy freezes and then turns to look at Kaldur. He lifts the manacled wrist incredulously. “Seriously, Kal, what are you-”

Kaldur jerks on the chain and Roy is forced to stumble towards him. It takes a few steps but a blush becomes apparent under the mask, it has spread slowly over Roy’s cheeks and it grows in intensity with each jerk of the leash. It is enough to make Kaldur stop, the water loses cohesion and falls to the ground with a splash. “…” They stand there, facing off, and Kaldur wonders… well, no, he doesn’t wonder. Surface dwellers were queer about their sexual interactions, private, and they were exceedingly odd about sexual preferences that did not fall within what they considered the ‘norm’. In Atlantis such things were not, perhaps, common place but were accepted and could even become marks of status.

“Is this what you need?” Kaldur asked quietly, he stepped up to Roy (who continued to stare at him through the whited out lenses of his mask) and gripped Roy’s wrists together. The pressure he exerted was firm but no painful, if he held on long enough however it might bruise. Roy gasped, a little, and then shook himself, everything from his head to his shoulders down to his hips, like he was trying to shake off Kaldur’s touch and his own arousal.

Kaldur didn’t stop holding him.

“Look, I know it’s weird.” Roy started to say, Kaldur squeezed his wrists and Roy almost fell silent again. “Stop that. It’s, I’m-”

It was easier to stop Roy’s mouth with a kiss. They were of a height, Roy slightly taller, but their muscular build was different. Roy’s muscles were focused on his arms, Kaldur’s on a lean light body that could slice through water, but Kaldur was denser than Roy, heavier due to his life under the waves. He was stronger than Roy as well. But in a kiss that kind of thing did not mattered, what mattered was desire and practice.

Kaldur might not have had much practice but he did have a great deal of desire.

Roy does not so much melt against him as conform to Kaldur’s body, his hands rest on Kaldur’s shoulders, a light grip even though Roy’s mouth is wet and needy. When Kaldur pulls back for air he enjoys the blush that has spread from Roy’s face to his ears and down his neck, it disappears under the neckline of his uniform and Kaldur wonders just how far it goes. He feels flushed himself, and he is panting slightly.

He is definitely aroused.

“I have,” Roy’s voice is hoarse and Kaldur can feel his adam’s apple bob quickly when he swallows, belatedly he realizes that he is stroking Roy’s throat. It’s soft and warm under his fingertips and he cannot find it within himself to stop. “There’s…” Roy licks his lips. “I’ve got a safe house.”

Kaldur understands what is being offered, what is being asked, and it’s a large change from earlier. He is not sure if he should trust it. “Is this really what you wanted, Roy?” Kaldur wraps his hand around Roy’s throat; his hand is dark against Roy’s pale throat. His fingers can’t touch but he makes the effort. Roy swallows again, several times, and he feels it against his palm.

“It’s what I need.”

Kaldur wishes he could see Roy’s eyes but he knows that now is not the time or place. He nods. “Let us go.”

The walk to the safe house is quick but comprised of many back alleys and a few rooftops. The safe house is not far from the league transporter and once they are inside Kaldur can see the remnants of someone else’s life. He does not ask if this used to be Green Arrow’s safe house before it was Roy’s, that question is too personal and Roy would not answer. If things are going the way that Kaldur believes they are going he may, perhaps, he allowed to ask eventually.

He takes off the harness that keeps his water bearers strapped to his back and lets it fall onto the lumpy couch sitting in the middle of the dinky, ill-lit apartment. Roy walks past the couch towards a half open door, he removes his shirt on the way and drops it to the floor. “The bedroom is…” After Roy has stepped through the door Kaldur grips his shoulder and steers him to the wall, he presses Roy up against the wall and enjoys the tight press of their bodies. Roy is so warm, much warmer than he is and it is something Kaldur can see himself enjoying. “Kaldur.”

“Do you need a *****?” Roy looks confused and Kaldur struggles. He is not sure what the surface dweller terminology for this is, his classes never instructed him in sexual terms and those slang terms learned ‘on the fly’ or from his friends were useless in this context. “A word or a term you use if I go too far or you wish to cease.”

Roy’s shoulders, which had been tense beneath his grip, relax slightly. “Oh, a safe word.” When they were younger (not much younger but younger) Roy would chew his bottom lip when he was thinking. Now he merely compresses his lips together into a thin, angry line. Kaldur wishes to kiss that mouth open, to keep kissing until Roy’s mouth is red and bruised and shining with spit. “I’ll go with… boxing glove.” It is a reference to Green Arrow’s preferred weaponry and it is not odd for Roy to have chosen such a term. Something inside Kaldur aches, that Roy should trust Ollie and yet be so angry with him…

“Alright. Boxing glove.” He repeats it back to Roy, Roy’s grim look loosens.

“Yeah.”

And then they are kissing again. Kaldur finds Roy’s wrists (they seem so delicate in his grip) and brings them up above Roy’s head. Roy lets his wrists be clasped together and even shudders slightly. Kaldur backs towards the bed he had seen in the gloom, his grip on Roy’s wrist and his mouth on Roy’s mouth the leash by which to lead Roy.

A leash would be fun, if they continue this for more than one night.

“I have…” Roy starts to speak when they hit the bed. Kaldur sits on the bed first and draws Roy into his lap. “I have handcuffs. In the…” He nods towards the bedside table.

“…has anyone else made you feel this way, Roy?” Kaldur shifts back on the bed and draws Roy with him. Roy shakes his head. Kaldur knows there are a number of reasons Roy could have for having handcuffs on his person but there are very few reasons Kaldur can come up with for Roy keeping them next to his bed. “No one?”

“No.” Roy gritted his teeth and then lifted his hands above his head. “I just… like the feel.”

Kaldur cinched the cuffs around Roy’s wrists, careful that they weren’t too tight, and Roy threaded his fingers through the wire frame of the headboard.

And then they began.


	17. Too Damn Young! (Roy & Ollie, Young Justice Cartoon, G)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy needs help... and time. Ollie's willing to give both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it has been AGES since I watched YJ so I can't even tell you what scene inspired this or if it was entirely inspired by the fact I love Lian

Ollie dropped his quiver to the floor and ripped off his mask, and then he sighed and rubbed a hand over his forehead. It had been a long night after a long day after a longer night. He was still focused on Roy, on Roy’s refusal to listen to his friends or anyone else.

“Ollie.”

Ollie swung around, his bowstring taught. Granted, he didn’t have an arrow in the bow so it was useless… but it was not like he needed to use it anyway. Roy stood half in the shadows of the room. “Roy.” Ollie carefully set his bow aside. “What are you doing here?”

Ollie winced, that sounded like an accusation, not the tone he wanted to use on Roy. What if this was a call for help?

“I need help.”

Oh god, it was a call for help! Thank _god_.

“Anything you need, Roy, I’m here for you.” Ollie was grateful that the next thing Roy did was step out of the shadows but he was… okay, he was a little freaked out by the little bundle Roy was holding in his arms. “Is that…”

“I need you to watch her.” Roy was holding the kid carefully, like he was used to it. Ollie was aware that his jaw had dropped but he couldn’t quite close his mouth yet. “Just for forty-eight hours. I have a lead and… it’s not like I can take her along.”

“Roy…” A lead, another lead, there would always be another lead. “What… I mean, who….”

“She’s mine.” Roy rocked the baby and Ollie knew that it was true. So, Roy had a kid, when? How? And why was he still chasing Speedy? “I’ve got to change, for her, so this is the last time… and that’s why I need you to watch her.”

Ollie hesitated before he held out his arms. “Forty-eight hours.” A warm weight settled in his arms and Ollie couldn’t help but smile down into the peaceful little face looking up at him. The little kid wrinkled (His? Her?) nose before snuggling against his chest. “That’s it.”

“I’ll be back.” Roy stroked a finger over the baby’s cheek before turning towards the exit. “Her name is Lian. I… I left a bag, upstairs. Bottles and formula and diapers.” Roy glanced back at the baby, the only hesitation he had shown in a long time. “Forty-eight hours, Ollie, so don’t go spoiling your granddaughter until then.”

Then Roy was gone, though he probably still heard Ollie’s shout. “I’M TOO DAMN YOUNG TO BE A GRANDPA!”


	18. Generation Gap (Jim Gordon/Stephanie Brown, M, Dub-Con, Non-Con, Sex Pollen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sex pollen explosion leads to an unfortunate grinding session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I WROTE THIS FOR A FRIEND

“Get down!” Jim hears the warning just before he feels a weight hitting his back. The voice is quickly becoming familiar to him, too familiar and a part of him wishes it wasn’t. Each time he sees a flash of purple and black and blonde his heart skips a beat. Sometimes it isn’t even her.

She does good work.

Something inside the warehouse explodes, dusting Jim and his officers with a fine pink dust.

The ground hits him hard; his side is going to be black and blue in a few hours, she’s got one arm around his chest and can probably feel his heartbeat. He coughs and inhales, the dust coats his tongue, scratches his throat. He coughs once more before Batgirl covers his mouth with her hand. “Don’t!” She says, and then she coughs as well. The ringing in his ears dies down and now he can hear everyone coughing.

He turns onto his back carefully. Batgirl is propped up above him, her mouth works, whether she is trying to form words or rid the taste of the pink dust from her mouth Jim will never know. He knows her lips are pink, flush, beautiful.

Young.

He kisses her.

There are thumps, thuds, moans from around them, the sound of cloth wrestling and weaponry hitting the cement floor. He hears Nick over the radio but the words are blurred.

She kisses enthusiastically and just… she feels so fresh. Her mouth, her tongue, her lips. She tastes like powdered sugar and cake donuts, a taste Jim is intimately familiar with.

Her hips are slip, they fit in Jim’s hands and he feels so scarred, so old as he touches the leathery fabric of her suit. He touches her everywhere but her mask, searching for a zipper, a seam, a button.

(Later on he will wince but be grateful that even drugged, he knew better than to touch her mask.)

She breaks away to breathe and smiles at him, sunshine and rainbows, and her hands are on his hips. He wears no costume, nothing more serious than his belt and nothing more complicated than his Kevlar vest. She doesn’t bother with his vest; instead she undoes his belt and pushes inside his fly.

Each breath burns.

There’s noise coming over their radios.

Jim winces, her gloves are rough on him but the pain makes the pleasure better. He moans, loudly, echoed by others around the room. She moans too, twists so she can ride his thigh. She grinds, hard, and he wonders, distantly, if she can even feel it through her suit.

He orgasms, wet, sloppy, his heart stuttering and he twists his fingers in her long blond hair. She keeps rubbing against his thigh but he feels weak, too weak.

He passes out, the last thing he sees before he does, burned black and grey, purple and blonde on his retinas is Batgirl arching her back, yellow symbol prominent on her chest.


	19. Brave and Bold (Bruce/Ollie, T)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred really isn't sure he approves of Bruce and Oliver

The Queen fellow was over again.

Oh, Alfred knew that he had encouraged Bruce to seek out the companionship of his fellow crime fighters, and he had been surprised yet pleased when Bruce’s begrudging respect for Oliver had bloomed into something more. But the relationship with Oliver Queen was combative at best and often competitive as well. Of course Master Bruce could not limit him to competing in merely one quarter and it seemed that Oliver Queen and Master Bruce were much alike in that respect.

Delicately, Alfred closed the door to the living room. He had covered Bruce and Oliver with one of the few easily washable blankets in the house, the windows were open slightly to allow in a cool summer breeze but Alfred knew that the manor could get quite cold at night even though it was currently rather balmy. Temperatures were also lower at floor level, especially when you were sleeping on a stone floor covered in merely the finest of Persian rugs, now stained forever due to their exuberant lovemaking.

Alfred knocked gingerly on Master Dick’s bedroom door and smiled at the sleepy tousled head that poked out. Inside he could make out young master Harper curled up on top of Dick’s covers. “Mister Queen and young Master Harper will be spending the night, would you like me to prepare Master Harper a room?”

Dick rubbed at his eyes and shook his head. “No, Roy’s okay, he’s asleep and stuff.” Then he smiled up at Alfred, the pure, carefree smile of youth. “And you’ve got to get all your cleaning supplies out for when Bruce and Ollie start going at it again.”

Ah, maybe not too pure, then.


	20. RESPECT (Kaldur/Roy, YJ Cartoon, M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaldur and Roy have known each other a long time.

Their relationship was one built on mutual respect. They had met as the sideki- partners of two of the world’s greatest heroes, Green Arrow and Aquaman, two men who got along… interestingly. There was a great deal of sniping between Kaldur’s usually placid king and the radical minded Green Arrow. At first he had thought that perhaps he and Roy would fall into a similar relationship. Roy constantly challenged him and he found that, after a while, he had to challenge Roy back.

But their relationship took them in a different direction than verbal disputes.

“C'mon,” Roy ground out, his teeth clenched and his body pressed flush against Kaldur’s. Muscular legs wrapped around Kaldur’s waist, the black uniform pants undone and pushed to Roy’s thighs, trapped there by thigh holsters. The fabric bunched uncomfortably between them but for Roy to take his pants off completely would mean for Kaldur to let go.

“It has been a while since we last did this.” Kaldur stated, circling Roy’s entrance with two lubricated fingers. Roy bucked in an attempt to get leverage, to push himself onto Kaldur’s fingers and take care of the job himself. Roy was always trying to take care of things himself. Kaldur’s hand on Roy’s hip kept him from getting far but he gave in and pressed one finger slowly inside Roy.

Roy hissed, the back of his head rubbing back and forth against the motel wall, the sound of his hair and skin against the rough textured wallpaper a gravelly irritation. He was tight around Kaldur’s finger and although he hid it behind his mask Kaldur knew it hurt him, at least a little.

Roy seemed to savor the pain of their coupling. It always hurt, somehow, no matter how careful Kaldur was. Roy rushed things, he pushed, shoved, pinched, pulled, bit, wrestled, wrangled, and generally went too fast. The first time had resulted in blood.

The second time Kaldur had learned that the best way to handle Roy’s self-destructive tendencies was to hold him down.

“Do you wish to move to the bed?” It was hard to appear calm during these moments, when Roy’s body was so warm and he was gradually beginning to heat up as well (Atlanteans had a baseline temperature below that of humans and it took extreme heat or a longer length of time for them to match human body temperature, that was why the lube was always cold when Kaldur pressed it inside of Roy) but Kaldur always strived to be the level headed one.

“No.” Roy shook his head and took a deep breath, his shoulders pushed against the wall in an effort to steady himself as his legs flexed around Kaldur’s waist. “I’m good here. Just c'mon, Kaldur!”

Kaldur placed a light kiss on the bare skin of Roy’s shoulder and pressed the second finger inside, heat pooling low in his belly at the clench of Roy’s muscles and the hiss of Roy’s breath along his skin.


	21. The Pit (Piper/Wally, Flashpoint, M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashpoint - Wally jerks off for Piper

He called it the Pit. The Piper never referred to it like that but then again he never talked about their ‘hideout’ at all it was only in reference to the things stored in it. Wally, however, had once jokingly said that the rented storage lockers they had converted into a hideout were as filled with instruments as an orchestra pit. It was cold, too, and cold cement had a very distinct smell to it, there were other scents too, the smell of wood polish on the piano, metal polish on the brass instruments and the static burnt ozone smell and buzz of electronics.

It was a smell Wally couldn’t separate from the hermit who spent more time in there than him.

“Mm.” The black and green outfit had been given to him the second time he’d done reconnaissance for Piper. Something to help him blend into the neon lights of the Central City rooftops and make it obvious to anyone else running around the city that Wally worked for Piper. It could be tossed in the washer along with any other load of darks and Wally found that useful because he tended to get dirty. Not just running around taking pictures or planting Piper’s bugs either.

One hand was down the black and green pants, the other rucked Wally’s shirt up to expose his chest to the cool air. It didn’t do much good arousing him (he’d never really found pinching his nipples did anything but hurt) but Piper had the Pit wired for sound and video.

And Piper liked a show.

“Nnn.” Wally let his head fall onto the back of the computer chair. He’d tried dirty talk once, all 'I’m thinking of you’ or 'I love when you touch me like this’ or even just chanting 'Piper’ over and over again… but then Piper had watched tapes and hadn’t been able to stop laughing. Silent laughter, though, Wally had never heard Piper’s real voice; he’d already had that fateful run-in with Cold before they started working together. “Ah…”

Wally let his hand go faster and faster, pre-cum beading on the tip of his cock and dripping over his fingers and his erection, helping Wally’s hand along. It didn’t take much longer (thinking about Piper, the way he’d smile while listening to music or perfecting another instrument, the look of concentration as he fiddled with their computer, the _focus_ and determination on his face when he played Wally’s body like a violin, drawing noises and sounds and eventually…"

Semen dripped over Wally’s fingers and the padding of the chair, slipping between Wally’s open legs to dampen the thighs of his pants. Hurriedly, Wally reached for the box of tissues he had left on the desk.

…great. He’d forgotten the tissues again.


	22. Finally, Space Pirates (Jason Todd + Kyle Rayner + Donna Troy, T)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason Todd flies a Hood class spaceship specifically because he finds it important to hide a Mask underneath. Rayner and Troy are just along for the ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't smoke in space, DON'T SMOKE IN SPACE, I'm not sure if vaping had been invented at this point but IDEK if vaping in space would be a good idea
> 
> also don't smoke, smoking kills

The Challenger was a Hood class starship, a classic ship that was good for up to five crewmembers and had plenty of room for storage. Not only that but it was easily customizable which made it a favorite model among those who called themselves ‘pirates’. Jason was a fan of the Hood class, sure, it wasn’t the  _Titan_  (Mark I, II, II, IV…) but not every ship could be a Team class and outfitted for deep space exploration.  Jason preferred the Challenger anyway, it was comfy.

Plus you could fit a Mask under a Hood and Jason  _always_  made sure to have a Mask, just in case.

“For Oa’s sake are you  _smoking_  again?” Rayner, champion complainer (Jason snickered when he realized that rhymed) peered into the piloting chamber with the kind of frown he  _always_  wore around Jason. Jason’d worry that Rayner was constantly constipated or something except he knew from experience that every goody-two-shoes he dealt with wore that frown. Bruce, all of his 'brothers’, the variety of Gotham trained not-quite-antiheroes he had dealt with while making a name for himself… yeah, and then there was Rayner, former Corps and current space pirate.

How the mighty had fallen.

“No matter how much you complain,” Jason blew a puff of smoke in Rayner’s face before he stubbed the cigarette out in an ashtray. He was almost finished anyway. “I’m not about to stop, Rayner. Donna doesn’t mind.”

“I do mind.” Donna Troy had been part of Dick’s original Teen Titan crew and Jason was mentally basking in being able to steal her away, even if she was probably going to go goody-goody after a couple of nice paychecks and run off with Rayner to make space babies or something. She, at least, had experience as a space pirate. The Darkstars were something else. “But you don’t let that stop you either.”

The cockpit was tiny and cramped with two people it was almost impossible to breathe with three. Jason made the best of it, shoving his elbows places where no one wanted elbows shoved and leaning back in his captain’s chair. “My ship, my rules, and oh look, there’s my paycheck.” The Black Mask’s mercantile vessel was coming up on the scanner, a steady blip just on the edge of their reach.

“Our paycheck.” Donna slipped into the co-pilots chair and pressed all right places to make her side of the panel light up. Kyle retreated to the corridor outside before heading back to the gunnery like a good boy. “Can’t we come up on her any faster?”

“You only had to ask.”


	23. Body Hair (Steph/Tim, T, crossdressing)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of them wears a skirt, the other wears pants. Not the ones you'd expect.

Steph danced out of Tim’s reach and Tim stumbled after her, his heels and skirt bringing him up short while she dodged easily in her dress shoes and slacks. He caught her by the pocket of her suit coat and she wrapped an arm around his waist while she kissed him. They both stumbled backwards, Tim tripping out of the heels and the hat on Steph’s head coming loose, her hair tumbling out of its careful arrangement. Buttons were ripped, exposing Steph’s bare chest, a hand with bitten nails and callouses slipped under Tim’s skirt and wiggled between tights and underwear to cup Tim’s bound cock. Tim groaned and kissed Steph, leaving a smear of lipstick on her mouth, then pressing perfect lip prints onto her cheek and jaw to her neck, the color fading with each successive kiss until he reached the bandages exposed by her half open shirt.

Steph slipped a hand up under his shirt and fumbled with the clasp of Tim’s bra until it popped, bra and padding slipped forward to be visible under the low hem of Tim’s shirt. Steph twisted to flip them so she sat on top, straddling Tim’s hips. She shoved the mid-length skirt up and dragged the dark black tights down.

“You didn’t shave?” She questioned when she noticed the hair on Tim’s legs. The tights were dark and thick, thick enough that they hid the scars and the dark black hair that covered Tim’s legs.

“Just because you drew a mustache on…” Tim struggled out of his top and then tossed the bra to the side, falsies bounced along the dimly lit bedroom floor. Steph drew a smug finger along her drawn on mustache and then rubbed at the waxy residue of lipstick on the corner of her mouth.

“Just be glad I’m not breaking out the strap-on.”


	24. The Wall (Tim/Kon, M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim blows Kon up against a wall.

The wall was the logical choice.

Tim slammed Kon up against the wall and sunk to his knees. Superboy’s fly was child’s play and Tim peeled the jeans down to Kon’s thighs before bracing himself with his hands on either side of Kon’s hips and staring. Both of them were panting hard, from the fight, from both of them holding back and then giving in. Tim’s lips are bruised, the bite marks and bruises and scratches on Kon’s skin are fading fast, but this, this Tim can make an impact on.

He wraps one gauntleted hand around Kon’s dick.

“Geeze.” Kon hissed and arched his back. The rough stucco would have scratched anyone else; points were ground to dust under the movement of Kon’s shoulders leaving a fine dust over his black t-shirt and bare ass. “Man, Tim, geeze.” He cut himself off with a groan when Tim rubbed the rough pad of his thumb over the tip of his erection.

“Don’t you ever take your gloves off?”

Tim glanced up at Kon and smirked. “Be glad I took off the cowl.”

Then he licked a stripe down the side of Kon’s cock and planted a kiss on his balls while continuing to fondle the tip. The string of swear words that tumbled from Kon’s lips would have been difficult for someone who had that human vulnerability of needing to breathe, the words kept tumbling as Tim fondled Kon’s balls and breathed over them, his lips occasionally brushing cock or balls but never staying for longer than a brief touch while his hands played Kon like a violin.

“C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, please, Tim, is that what you want?” Tim stopped fondling Kon which prompted another string of swear words and looked up at his best friend, the guy he loved, someone who he would die for.

Who he might even kill for, if it ever came to that. It was a scary thought but Tim had come to terms with it.

“I do like the sound of you begging.” Tim licked his lips before he placed the lightest of kisses on Kon’s erection.

_“Please”_


	25. Working Man (Ted Kord + Karen Star, G)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DCnU Ted eats lunch with Karen Starr and thinks about things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when DCnU started off and we were all 'OH?' and then some of us were like '...eh?' and then... yeah, anyway. I had plans for writing a DCnU Ted fic but then some things got jossed and I just went 'eh, fuckit'.
> 
> (plus, marvel)

There was something about the way Karen Starr ate Greek salad that naturally drew the eye. Maybe it was the way her lips wrapped around her fork, or the dainty way she would lick off dressing that had splattered the corner of her mouth, or the shape of her lips when she popped a whole olive into her mouth… or maybe it was just that Karen Starr was a drop dead gorgeous woman and Ted had been secretly in love with her since he’d realized that lusting after such a brilliant and often volatile woman would probably get him killed. Loving her just meant that eventually his heart would be broken, it wouldn’t be the first time a gorgeous woman had stomped on Ted’s feelings and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

Plus, Karen wore such sexy shoes, he’d love to have his heart ground into the dust by her stylish (but relatively inexpensive as far as boots went) Nine Wests.

“Ted, I love you,” And Ted couldn’t help the way his heart fluttered at the sound of that phrase even if Karen meant 'like a friend’ and even if she was stabbing her fork in the air at him as she spoke, “but Michael Holt is <i>the</i> smartest man on Earth. Kord and Cyberwear aren’t even in competition for the same contracts.”

“I’m  _wounded_ , Karen.” Ted pushed away his empty plate (an entirely too healthy meal, absolutely tasteless, Ted was almost ready to abandon his diet just so he could go back to eating food that tasted like real food and gorging on takeout once a week) and slumped in his chair. He sat up and straightened his tie immediately, remembering that they had decided to eat out at one of the expensive restaurants near Kord Industries that was every now and then visited by investors or board members. He missed the days when he and Karen could just hole up in a coffee house behind their respective laptops and be completely unnoticed. But Karen had founded STARRware which had been absorbed into Cyberwear and now she had some complicated job that Ted didn’t understand but which she had described as 'riding herd on a bunch of too stupid to live Mensa brats’.  They didn’t really talk about work much anyway, they didn’t want to violate some clause of their contract that had been printed in invisible ink.

“Your ego might be wounded but you know I’m right.” Karen set her fork down and pushed her plate away, she mirrored Ted’s slump briefly before she too sat up. When Ted slumped he looked frumpy when Karen slumped she looked like some sort of relaxed sex goddess. “Last week we were contacted by the J.L.I. for commission work, military contracts do not top superheroes." 

"Hey, five years ago military contracts <i>did</i> top superheroes.” Public opinion could change in 5 years however, 5 years ago 'superheroes’ had been new and scary, after all how were you supposed to feel about a guy who could punch through buildings or fly? Or that guy with the ring who could create any thing he wanted out of green light and then, of course, there was Batman who had been an urban legend in Gotham for almost as long as Ted could remember. Five years ago the Hall of Justice was a dream in some heroes head and an international Justice League would have been considered a folly. A hero like Booster Gold who posed for magazines and had a billboard across from Ted’s office for Soder cola would have been a laughing stock.

Things changed in five years, though. Five years ago he would have been able to eat dinner with Karen without society page reporters clustering in the shadows and without having to worry about whether there were investors at other tables eying him suspiciously. Five years ago their diet pact was just starting, Karen always worried about the way she fit into a shirt and Ted feeling pudge around his belly from too many late nights at the office and not enough time spent in the gym. Five years ago they hadn’t had to fit in dinners and lunches around business trips and conferences, Ted hadn’t been stuck in Hub City most of the time struggling between being an employer and an inventor and Karen had been more of a free agent with STARRware than she ever was with Cyberwear.  Ted remembered nights in New York holed up in a hotel room or Karen’s apartment with a box of pizza open between them and a bag of garlic bread spread out on the lid while they bounced ideas off of each other, ideas and inventions wilder and crazier and more elaborate as time went on.

Of course, five years before that they hadn’t even known of each other. They met in online around eight years ago and after dancing around each other they’d finally agreed to meet. Ted half expected Karen to be a guy and Karen had expected Ted to be a girl and well both had been pleasantly surprised (and never admitted to the other that they wouldn’t have minded if it had been the other way after all). A close friendship had formed, if not a romantic one, they both agreed that while the other was attractive neither felt any sort of spark.

Though Ted wouldn’t have minded  _trying_  but after more than one story from Karen about past romantic entanglements he realized that sleeping with Karen Starr just to sleep with her would probably lead to a broken nose and a lost friendship.

“Are you going to the science fair this year?” Ted picked up his wine and swirled it around for lack of anything else to do with his hands. He wasn’t a wine connoisseur, he preferred a nice beer but the beer at the restaurant was both expensive and awful so he stuck to wine, plus with the prices they charged for wine it was easier to just order a bottle than to order a glass or two.

“I’ll be there with bells and whistles on,” Karen admitted. The 'science fair’ as Ted and Karen referred to it was actually the Wayne Enterprises Annual Science Expo (WEASE for short) but they’d only ever called it 'the science fair’ because that was what the conglomeration of earnest faced scientists reminded them both of.  “My department has a few new inventions they want to show off to all and sundry and I need to be there to translate-”

“Tech to Norm to Wayne.” Ted recited the familiar litany with Karen and they smiled at each other. Both had serious doubts about Bruce Wayne, that he could be as stupid as he appeared and also that he couldn’t possibly  _not_  be as stupid as he appeared. While his schooling seemed to say 'intelligent’ his public image was… so not. “At least we’ll have each other, right?”

Karen lifted her glass with a smile and held it across the table, Ted mirrored her action and their glasses chimed when they connected. “To friendship?”

“To friendship.”


	26. The Minitry (Nell Little + Irey West + Milagro Reyes, G)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Milagro as Teen Lantern, Nell as Batgirl and Irey as Impulse defeat... goo aliens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look you can fight me on the minitry but I'm never going to give up my dream

“Nothing can protect you from…” Nell blanked her mask quickly although not so quickly that she didn’t see Irey cover her eyes or Milagro start to rise in the air, “MY LITTLE RAYS OF SUNSHINE!”

She didn’t need to see the attack to know what was going on. Milagro was, at this point, glowing brighter than the Bat Signal and greener than Miss Martian, a nimbus of power and energy that erupted with a ‘pop’ and ‘zing’. Next there were crunching noises and a few splats, Nell turned her sight back on just in time to see most of their opponents pop like balloons.

“Yuck, zombie slime!” Irey shouted as she dodged the eruption of green ooze, despite her objection to it she was the only one of them who managed to be completely untouched. Milagro glanced down at herself before using the ring to scrape the ooze off, Nell, who had gotten the worst of it, pulled a few wipes from her pocket (“You never know when you’re going to get gunk all over your face!” Steph had said cheerfully the first time she had stuffed a whole handful into Nell’s utility belt.) and cleaned off the bottom half of her chin. She was careful not to take a deep breath until the slime was all out of the way.

“They’re not zombies.” The fact they weren’t ‘zombies’ had been hammered into Nell’s head before she met up with Irey and Milagro for ‘kiddy duty’ (as Milagro put it) or ‘emergency strike crews’ (as Nightwing, although Steph would always be Batgirl to Nell, put it). “They’re magically constructed-“

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Milagro waved her glowing hand in the air. “Well this crew of oozing dollies is down for the count, do we get any more?”

“Hold on, Proxy, are you listening in?”

A beat of silence and then Proxy’s voice in her ear, responding. “When am I not listening to you? If something happened to you Nightwing would make me eat my chair. You all done with East 13th and Kane Blvd?”

“The constructs are all goo’d.” Nell watched while Milagro poked the goo with a constructed stick then began using a miniature excavator to shovel it all into a nearby trashcan. “Anyone need some backup?”

She tried not to sound to hopeful. It wasn’t like Stephanie needed her help to fight crime and it wasn’t like Nell needed to have Steph hold her hand but she liked fighting alongside her mentor. She loved Irey and Milagro but it just wasn’t the same thing.

“I’ve got all clears across the- wait, it looks like the devil child is going to swing by and pick you three up. Stay put!”

Nell groaned, loud enough that Irey, who had been running recon by circling 5 city blocks, skidded to a halt in front of her, red pig tails swinging so fast they hit Nell full in the face. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“Robin’s coming to pick us up.” Nell informed Impulse and Teen Lantern (or, if she was feeling like it, Little Ray of Sunshine, Mean Green, Li’l Lantern, etc, etc, etc, but mostly she was Teen Lantern).

It hadn’t taken Nell a while to figure out why Damian was ‘devil child’ instead of being Robin on the comms, although after the first time they had been forced to team up with Klarion she thought maybe the nickname had been applied too early. Then again, it was Damian, there was no denying the fact he was evil. Even Irey, who thought Damian was dreamy, agreed that he was evil.

The Robin Mobile (not really, it was some sort of secondary Bat car but Nell refused to call it the Batmobile) careened around a corner and headed straight for them, fast enough that a civilian would probably have been worried. Nell waited it out, fully aware that Damian was going to show off and stop the care barely an inch from her. The side of the car lifted up but Damian, the jerk, didn’t even ask if they needed a ride or tell them to get in. He just grunted.

Jerk.


	27. Silk 2 (Kaldur/Roy, Young Justice Cartoon, T, bondage)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where there is actual silk and also nothing explicit happens

Kaldur shouldn’t be here, he knows he shouldn’t be. He’s been working so hard to follow Dick’s plan, to secure, defeat, protect… there was a lot on his plate. The stress was driving him nuts and that was what had lead Kaldur to where he was.

Star City.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Roy hissed. He looked good, looked nice, definitely looked better than the last time Kaldur had seen him. The suit was new, similar to the suit he had worn when Kaldur and he had taken down Cheshire but better fit. The tie was new as well, red and shiny. He reached for it, surprised at the fact that Roy did not flinch back, surprised and touched that Roy let him touch the tie.

Drag it through his fingers.

“Silk.” Roy grunted. “A gift from Ollie. For Father’s day.”

Kaldur glanced over Roy’s shoulder to the dimly lit apartment. He couldn’t see the darkened room where Lian lay sleeping but he could see the bright red light of a baby monitor perched by what was most likely Roy’s favorite chair. “It’s nice.” Kaldur wrapped it around his fingers, the edge rubbed against his webs, and he tugged on it.

 

Roy let him.

Roy took a step forwards, Kaldur matched him, and they met with a mash of lips. Kaldur kept a firm grip on Roy’s tie but it was Roy who led them backwards into the apartment, Roy’s hand on his shoulder (unarmored, for once, for the first time in a long time, too long, he felt vulnerable, exposed but protected, reassured by Roy’s presence) that guided him down onto a long couch.

“We need to be quiet.” Roy said, half undressed already, suit jacket tossed aside, tie loose, buttons undone. Kaldur had less to lose, the black water safe shirt tossed aside, his skintight pants riding low on his hips. “I don’t want to wake her.”

Kaldur has questions about Lian, about Roy and Lian, about Roy. Instead he kisses Roy again, drags Roy’s tie off. He thinks about using it, wrapping it around his fist and jerking Roy off or tying it around Roy’s wrists.

Or offering it to Roy so Roy would tie him up, so he could feel that release. Instead he let it fall to the side, a puddle of red on Roy’s suit jacket.

Between them they had more issues with father figures than father figures and they had plenty of those too.

“Do you have anything?” Kaldur asked, pushing down his pants so they wrapped around his knees, Roy tugged them down farther and then slid his hands over Kal’s sleek thighs. “For this?”

Roy hesitated, two sets of hands on Roy’s belt and zip pausing to allow him a moment. “I have… hold on, in the bathroom.”

One last wet kiss between them and Roy rushed off to fetch supplies. Lubricant, of some kind, a condom or two if Kal knew Roy. It gave Kaldur too much time to think. Seconds alone were too much time to think. He found himself reaching to pull his pants up then kicked them off instead.

Then he waited.


	28. Repetitions (Stephanie Brown + Damian Wayne, G)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Future Fic)
> 
> Steph tries to reverse Damian's death.
> 
> It doesn't go well.

“NO!” Steph screamed as the sword plunged into Damian yet again.

–

*GOOD MORNING* the alarm on her phone blared in an annoyingly cheerful tone, *GOOD MORN-* before it could finish the second greeting or start on the irritating music that followed (do-do-do-DO-do-do-do-DAH!) Steph snagged it, screamed at it, and hit the dismiss button. Then she flopped back onto the pillows.

“Day sixteen,” she muttered angrily, aggressively, aggravatedly to herself. She had thought day 1 was bad, the fight, the smell, the sight of Damian with the sword in his stomach.

It had been bad. What had been worse was the knowledge there was nothing she could do to stop it.

“Uuuuuuuuugh.”

Two weeks before the incident, which meant over a month ago for Steph, a red clad Nightwing had stumbled into the batcave. She said red-clad because under all the blood he had been coated in he was wearing an outfit that was all shades of red. It was a little disconcerting (and it had turned their Dick’s face interesting colors), shortly before he died he had practically crushed Damian’s hand and warned about a menace that was crossing the worlds and would be headed for him.

And then he had died.

And then they had prepared.

“Fuck this.” Steph grumbled and kicked her covers off. “Fuck this, fuck this, FUCK THIS!”

She screamed it at the ceiling but there was no hope this would make her feel better. While Damian had practiced and Bruce had researched and Dick had hovered and paced and made an ass of himself and Tim had gathered the reserves ‘just in case’ (and unbeknownst to them all at the time Jason Todd had done much of the same), Stephanie had prepared for the worst.

Doctor Fate hadn’t maybe been her best choice but he wouldn’t tell and that was what she wanted, needed, because she needed to be prepared for a sacrifice, or worse, some sort of magic that would just fuck them all over. He hadn’t even warned her what the amulet would do, just placed it on her neck.

A second chance, he’d said mysteriously, and Steph had hoped that was all she would need.

Steph lumbered into the shower.

She had gone without the shower before, raced to Damian’s side, told him what had happened, advised him.

She screamed again as the cold water hit her back.

It hadn’t worked.

She had told Bruce the next time, she had told Dick, told Tim, had tracked Jason down and told him too.

Damian had still choked on his own blood, eyes wide behind the mask, fingers clutching at nothing.

She’d told the Justice League.

Nothing, no good, nada, and she kept repeating. Doctor Fate was unreachable now. Zatanna couldn’t snap her out of the loop, couldn’t save Damian. Every attempt to save Damian resulted in dire results.

Everyone had died but her, once.

And she had been close, legs screaming, arms unable to move, she had watched Nell leap in front of Damian and watched the sword go through them both.

The next time she had left Nell out and Damian still died.

“Today,” she muttered, lathered, rinsed, repeated, conditioned and spread soap over her body. “We do it my way.”

She had tried it every other way possible. Today, they’d run.

Today, they’d have fun.


	29. Primary Aid Rec Center (Kyle/Jason, T)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyle and Jason are setting up their daycare.

“Higher,” Kyle instructed the muscle. “A little high- no, wait, lower.”

Jason twisted to give Kyle a glare. “Are you kidding me, Rayner? I am going to drop this on your fucking hea-”

Kyle grinned. “Hold it right there! It’s perfect!” Jason made a dismissively angry noise and might have taken an extra hard swing at the nail when he attached the sign to the wall. Then he climbed down to view the sign reading ‘Primary Aid’. “Also, no cursing around the kids. We agreed.”

“Fucker.” Jason muttered as he carelessly dropped off the step ladder. “What kind of dumbass do you think I am? I’m not going to curse around fucking kids, asshole.”

Kyle tapped his shoe and waited for the tirade to end.

“You even put it in goddamn writing, jackass. What kind of damn attorney did you even fucking hire, numbnuts?” Jason took a step toward Kyle with each word. Kyle didn’t back up and soon Jason was crowding against him. “Kiss me, asshole.”

Kyle did, but only because it was really the only way to shut Jason’s dirty, dirty mouth.

Also because kissing in the reception area of their soon to be open children’s rec center was kind of exciting.

But only kissing.

He didn’t want rug burn!

Okay, maybe more than kissing.

But Jason was going to get to clean the carpets later.


	30. Booking It (Dick Grayson, G)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bookstore AU, Dick and his friends run a store called Titans.

Dick sneaks in through the back, his trench coat held over his head to protect him from the rain. He really needed to stop forgetting his umbrella at his apartment, especially since it had been raining since before Dick woke up and would likely continue to rain long past Dick leaving the store. The back door is a big heavy thing but Dick makes sure it’s kept well-greased for just this purpose, it doesn’t even squeak when he pushes his way inside. Of course he could probably make all the noise he wanted to, when the apartments upstairs were put in Dick made sure they added sound proofing. He had done it for Roy and Raven, Roy because back then Lian had still been young enough that she slept when the shop was still running, Raven because when she was not working she preferred to retreat to her sanctum sanctorum and Dick knew she preferred it to be quiet.

He still likes to keep quiet when he sneaks in, however.

The shop will not open properly for another two hours, it is unlikely that either of the people living above it will come down before 9. The only real worry he has of getting caught is if Roy notices his car parked down the street when he takes Lian into school or if Vic shows up early for yet another absolutely unneeded inventory check.

Not that he can fault Vic’, his relentless need to know EXACTLY what they had in the back AT ALL TIMES had kept them from running out of this or that best seller more than once as well as alerted them to stock they hadn’t been aware of.

Dick let himself into the back office and smiled slightly at the picture on the desk. Donna had taken it and it was one of his favorites of hers, second only to the candids she often took of Kory. It was all of them smashed together back when they were just getting started. He and Roy were arguing about something, hell if he could remember, Kory had an arm over Raven’s shoulders and they were discussing something very seriously, well, Raven was serious, Kory had a small smile on her lips. Gar was downing a cup of something while Wally and Vic both laughed at him. In the background he can make out Mal and Lilith, Garth is on the phone just beyond them, back to the camera.

It’s more realistic than any of the line-up shots they had taken before and since. They have all grown up over the years and some of them had moved on. Some of them moving onto bigger and better things, some just moving on. Titans has grown into a local chain store, something Dick could never have imagined back when he was worried that the store would either go under or Bruce would step in and take it over to ‘protect him’. Part of Dick thinks the success of Titans has happened despite the well-meaning if overbearing ‘partners’ they had at the beginning.

“I should have known.” It’s Vic, of course it is, and why Dick did not notice him looming in the doorway or stomping through the store is a question for another time. Perhaps Vic has finally mastered his prosthetic leg and the ability to move quietly… both at the same time. …it’s unlikely.

“Where else would I be on our anniversary?” Dick replies flirtatiously, he tosses in a wink as well before he leans back against his desk. “Happy 15th.”

“Let’s see,” Vic stomps through the office over towards the calendar and then mimics an expression of surprise. “So it is! And it looks like there is even a party scheduled for tonight. What are you doing sneaking around so early, Grayson?”

“Some days, I like to greet the sun from inside the store.”

Vic shot him a look that said he clearly knew when he was being B.S.ed and then punched him lightly in the shoulder. “It’s raining.” Then he grabbed the giant binder with their most recent inventory lists and stomped off towards the back. Dick let out a relieved breath and a smile and ducked behind his desk to check that his ‘surprise’ for the party was still undiscovered and intact.

With gifts for his friends, he could never be careful enough.


	31. Kiss Me, I'm... (Steph + Klarion)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steph isn't even sure what villain prompted the kissing, which is why she's grateful for a bit of magical help.

There were days when Stephanie seriously wondered who, what, where and *why* Gotham even bothered to throw large public events. The St. Patrick’s day parade had started out nice, calm even, but then it had quickly dissolved into chaos.

Personally, Steph blamed society. Because green beer? Really? That was just begging for a villain to take advantage.

Of course Stephanie had no idea why a villain had teamed up with Poison Ivy and spiked the beer and turned Gotham U’s campus into some sort of bacchanalian festival. Shouldn’t Poison Ivy be against it? Stephanie avoided yet another couple heavily macking on each other and made a face. The last she had heard Poison Ivy wasn’t a fan of humanity making more of humanity.

Or of dudes. Steph was pretty sure Ivy was purely into chicks.

“This is a most unusual event!” Steph heard a voice behind her, the only voice she’d heard in like, a half an hour that wasn’t moaning or Proxy. And it was a familiar voice too.

“Klarion!” Steph turned around and found that the witch boy was almost right behind her. They practically bumped noses. With a grin Steph spread her arms wide. “Give us a kiss!”

And then she kissed him right on the cheek.

Okay, she didn’t swear that she hadn’t had ANY of the green beer. She just hadn’t had much.

Klarion squeaked and wriggled out of her arms. Steph wiped her mouth off and grinned even wider at him.

“That… that was slobbery!” Klarion complained as he hopped over a wriggling trio of students. “And disgusting!”

“Well if you don’t want another one, you better help me figure out how to end this.”


	32. 3 Kisses (Helena Bertinelli/Barbara Gordon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3 kisses Helena and Babs have shared, 3 times they've been 'fake married'.

Kiss 1 – Gay marriage isn’t legal in Gotham

The first time Babs and Helena pretend to be married it’s not legal in Gotham. That’s the point of the play, actually. Babs sits in her wheelchair and watches and listens to Helena rip into the medical staff at one of Gotham’s fancier hospitals. Although, not it’s fanciest, if Babs had shown up at a hospital that Bruce had donated more than just a wing for she’d have been whisked into the back faster than you could say ‘executive treatment’.

“I can’t believe this! She’s my wife-” Helena waves the papers angrily in front of the steadily uncomfortable nurses’ faces. “We’re visiting her relatives for three days and you won’t let me follow her into the emergency room! She’s bleeding!”

Babs is cradling an actually bleeding hand on her lap. It isn’t as bad as it could have been; they’d just encountered some rough company on their way over. It adds truth to the story though.

She was going to be play acting appendicitis otherwise.

“Be that as it may, ma’am…” The head nurse, who had appeared ten seconds ago, starts to say. Helena cuts her off by turning to Babs and leaning down for a kiss. Babs leans forward for it, knowing Helena is doing this to make a point.

There is tongue and a little bit of teeth and, right before she pulls away, Helena lets out a satisfied little moan. Then she turns back to the stunned (and for one of them, aroused) nurses. “I can’t believe you-”

Kiss 2 – Get me to the Preacher on time

“Excuse me?” Babs looked up at the man in front of her. It was one of the things she hated, looking up at people. It clued her into why Bruce was always dropping down from the ceiling. “What did you say?”

The man smiled a politician’s smile which, of course, he was. Babs gripped the arms of her chair so she wouldn’t pull out her escrima sticks and beat him instead. She couldn’t believe Helena dragged her all the way to the city hall for ‘a surprise’. What kind of surprise? Babs had no idea because she had been sitting out in the hallway for almost an hour because the elevator was broken and the second floor wasn’t handicap accessible.

She’d already written up a nasty e-mail about that.

“I was saying you must find it difficult getting around in your chair. Which is a shame. Does your boyfriend help?” The last was said with a leading smile.

She narrowed her eyes. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend.” She heard familiar footsteps on the stairs behind her and cut off the politician before he spoke again. “I have a wife.” Babs made sure to say the last loud enough Helena could hear her.

“Honey!” Helena stood behind her and leaned over giving Babs an upside-down Spider-man kiss. “I got the papers. We’re all set.”

They leave the guy picking his jaw off the floor and laugh as soon as the big doors of city hall swing shut.

Kiss 3 – Lesbians love company

“I’m not doing this alone.” Is what Dinah said. “I refuse to go on a lesbian supervillain recruiting cruise without backup.” Then Dinah pointed first at Helena and then at Babs. “And I’m not dating either one of you, you are both terrible kissers.”

Babs had sighed. “I thought it might be a good idea if we all went. Coordinating you two will be easier if I’m there. And Dinah, if you’re single, it gives you more room to move around the crowd and get to know people. Helena and I will be dating.”

“Married.” Helena had added easily. “We should be married.”

The cruise involved more lesbians than supervillains but they were there. Ironically, Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn were also along for the ride but… not as supervillains.

“I don’t get it.” Harley motioned to Babs and then to Helena. “What’s sexy about a librarian and a school teacher? Why do they have such hot bods, Pammy?”

Babs reached over and grabbed onto the string of Helena’s bikini bottom. She gave it a tug, not enough to loosen it, just enough to reel Helena in. Once Helena was sitting next to her on the sun chair she grasped the back of Helena’s head and pulled her in for a showy, sexy kiss.

It left her tingling in her swimsuit.

“Ooooooh.” Harley sing-songed. “Now I get it. It’s the sex.”


	33. Time Travel (Tim/Kon, G)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim should never give anyone fashion advice, especially not about the 90s.

For some reason when Tim signed up to be a superhero (or, you know, a sidekick) he never factored in things like time travel. It wasn’t as if he was unaware of it as a concept. In fact, given Tim’s preferred entertainment (and absolute geekiness, if his partner on this time travel trip was allowed to add input) he was well aware of time travel when he became Robin.

It always surprised him, though, the kind of situations one ended up in.

“Why do I have to change clothes?” Kon complains, hands full of clothing Tim had procured from Goodwill. “It’s not like a t-shirt and jeans aren’t classic.”

Tim rolled his eyes while shrugging his way into his chosen ensemble. “You’re too modern.” Er. “Futuristic, I mean. Your outfit might be basic but those jeans haven’t come into style yet.” Sure, the stylistic differences between male jeans a decade ago and those that Kon were wearing were minimal but they were there. “And no one wears a red S t-shirt until you start wearing a red S shirt.”

They don’t want to jumpstart a fashion statement. Who knows what that could change.

Kon wrinkled his nose at the clothes he had been handed. “Okay, sure, but do you think being futuristic will attract less attention than being hideous because Wonder Boy,” he shook the brightly colored t-shirt at Tim, “this is hideous.”

“That,” Tim sniffed, “is the height of fashion. It’s the 90s, Kon.”

“I hate to break it to you,” Kon stripped off his shirt (Tim swallowed), “but your fashion sense in the 90s sucked.”

“Better than yours.” Tim was quick to say, although he personally agreed with Kon’s assessments. “Double belts and a leather jacket?”

When Kon held up the leather jacket that Tim had thoughtfully provided for him he raised a sardonic eyebrow. “Yeah, leather jackets, that’s never cool.”

In the 90s, Tim would have flushed. However now he is a mature Bat with control over many minor subliminal reactions. Like blushing. He hasn’t blushed inadvertently in 4 years. “But you can’t defend the belts.”

“Says the Hamburgler who strapped two belts over his chest and another one across his waist.” They’re both dressed now and sizing each other up to be sure they won’t stick out like sore thumbs. Tim thinks they’ll be alright. Their haircuts… Kon’s won’t be too out of place and with a little hair gel Tim’ll be fine. Now they just have to track down a way home. Booster Gold might be an option, if this isn’t one of the many points of his career where he’s being an ass. They might have to cave and ask the League for help. Or, if that seems like it might destabilize the timeline, build their own time machine. Tim’s relatively sure he could do it.

“Just so we’re clear,” Tim checked both ways (ignoring Kon’s eyeroll because hello, super-senses) before pulling Kon into the street, “the Hamburgler is not part of the Red Robin franchise.”

Kon scoffed. “I know, Rob, I know.”


	34. For the Vine (Tim/Kon, G)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kon wants to lift Tim over his head.
> 
> What about what Tim wants, Kon? WHAT ABOUT THAT?!

“Please.” Kon begged. It was absolutely unsightly, Tim was appalled. “C’mon,  _pleaaaaaase_.”

Somewhere in the distance Bart was laughing, Tim was sure Bart wasn’t laughing  _at_  him (he was probably laughing at a joke, maybe Cassie had started to use that latent sense of humor again or Beast Boy had turned into a crab and pinched Cyborg or…).

“No.” He told Kon. Kon turned on the puppy eyes but Tim… Tim was above all of that. It was important to set boundaries with dogs, after all, and if he was going to get Kon to listen to him when things were important than the other teen had to listen to him about the little things. And Tim… Tim wasn’t allowed to cave. “No.”

He added a pout to the puppy eyes.

Tim felt the walls around his heart crack.

“You’re not even… it’s not even a challenge to you.” Tim waved at Kon’s… Kon’s everything. For the age he was supposed to be (which was a lie) he was built, not like a truck but definitely like a guy who didn’t break a sweat during gym class. It made Tim wonder about young Superman and how he had managed to pass himself off as a weakling for years. Tim, despite the fact he didn’t break a sweat during gym class, was always underestimated athletically. At least, out of uniform anyway.

“So? It’s not about the challenge. It’s about how showing off.” Kon motioned behind him at the girls clustered by the volleyball net. Every now and then one of them would look over at Kon and giggle. Two of them did, in their defense, look over at Tim and giggle as well.

Tim couldn’t blame them for looking at Kon more. He was bigger, after all, and unlike Tim he had stripped down to trunks almost immediately. Tim, who on the worst of days wasn’t above wearing multiple shirts at the beach, was at least wearing a tight swim shirt. Dick had said the color brought out his eyes.

Not that he’d asked Dick for fashion advice.

Not that anyone should  _ever_  ask Dick for fashion advice.

“Showing off you can lift me. Which would make you look cool but make me look…”

Oh, at last, Kon got it.

“…cool too? I mean.” Kon scrambled for something to make it better. “Oh, I know, you can do like, a backflip off my shoulders afterwards. They’d totally be into that, I bet.”

Tim shielded his eyes with his arm and flopped dramatically back onto his towel. A day at the beach, they’d said, have fun, relax, they’d said, oh wait first we have to battle sand monsters, they said, then you can relax without your stupid friends bugging you to show off to girls… no one said ever. “What about what I’m into, Kon?” He whined. “Why isn’t that important?”

Silence.

…oh shit.

Silence might mean thinking. Kon, for all that he was, well, Kon, sometimes made amazing intuitive leaps.

Shit, shit, shit.

Tim sat up hurriedly.

Too fast!

His face met Kon’s face.

No, check that, his mouth met Kon’s mouth.

NO, CHECK THAT, KON HAD DECIDED NOW WAS A GOOD TIME TO SEE IF TIM WAS OKAY WITH BEING KISSED.

ERROR, ERROR, ABORT.

SYSTEMS SHUT DOWN.

Kon pulled back and licked his lips. He had definitely stopped thinking about how to impress girls with lifting Tim. He laughed, like the bastard he was, of course. “Man, I was going to ask what you  _are_  into. I mean, it’s not like you talk about your kinks or anything.” He paused. “…can I still do the lifting thing? They said they were going to film it for, uh, the Vine. Then we can do more kissing, though.”

“…sure, Kon.” Tim wasn’t out of breath.

He didn’t sound faint.

“For the vine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember when everything was 'for the vine'? all of like, 3 years ago? anyway, an anon prompted i write this and fuck, i really do miss writing tim/kon


	35. Don't Bring Fruitcake! (Hartley Rathaway/Wally West, G)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's enchanted mistletoe floating around and Wally can't leave a friend hanging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set sometime in the 90s run of The Flash when Hartley and Wally were always hanging around each other (I'm actually referencing a specific comic with the fruitcake bit which I realize now might come off as a gay joke, it's not) and I have a SOFT soft SOFT!!! spot in my heart for Wally/Hartley/Linda where Wally's with Linda and Hartley and Hartley and Linda are platonic partners and ANYWAY...

Waly wasn’t exactly surprised to see Hartley walking around with mistletoe hanging over his head. Somehow, somewhere, two of Batman’s villians (Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn) had gotten in touch with a mischievous magic user (whose name Wally couldn’t remember but he MIGHT have been a witch boy) and the three of them had apparently felt in the mood for a Christmas prank.

Which, okay, as far as villain went, this was something Wally could get behind.

No one was hurt! It was just sort of… troublesome.

“I never thought you’d be one of those guys going unkissed.” Wally said as he screeched to a stop at Hartley’s side. “You’ve always got a date!”

Hartley glanced mournfully up at the sprig of mistletoe. “Not currently. And,” he said seriously, “I’m not really in the mood to kiss strangers.”

Wally grinned. “Good thing I’m not, right?”

He planted one right on the kisser, as Linda would hear later that night, and then grabbed the hail of mistletoe (the most troublesome part of the gift was the cleanup) that followed breaking the spell out of the air. “I’ll tell Linda you’ll be over at 6. Don’t bring fruitcake!” And he was off.


	36. Sleeping on the Couch (Hartley Rathaway & James Jesse, T)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was for Pipster with Wally and Linda showing up. Don't know how these two ended up at the West household but now they're there Wally's not gonna let them leave.

“OH MY GOD.”

The shout is enough to break the two of them apart. Piper wishes he was wearing a turtleneck, or his costume, or had anything to cover his face but the lone pillow on the couch.

It was covered in Joan Garrick’s careful needlepoint and he would have felt even guiltier using it to hide his guilty face.

Linda Park-West stands in the doorway to her… house. Her house. Her living room, specifically, because that’s the first room in her house and… her look of surprise is quickly overcome by a look of glee. Gleeful women terrify Hartley (he blames it on trauma caused by Golden Glider).

James scoots further up the couch so he can hang over the side and look at Linda upside down.

“Hi!” He sounds cheerful.

Goddammit.

“I don’t think we’ve met.” James continues.

Hartley has no idea where Wally is. Somewhere far from here. Uzbekistan, maybe. Uzbekistan sounds good.

Linda is smiling at them.

“Let me, uh,” He offers to take the bags of groceries from her arms but she shakes her head and pointedly looks back at James. “Right. James Jesse, formerly Trickster, meet Linda Park-West.”

James grins.

Linda smiles.

The back door of the house rattles against the wall. “Linda! I thought you were-” A whoosh of air announces Wally’s arrival into the air. “Oh!” He glances between James and Hartley, his face twists into a smile and then a frown, back and forth fast enough and repeatedly so it looks like his mouth is some sort of twisted twin. “So…” He clears his throat. “Look, I think we need to… talk.”

Hartley drags a hand through his hair and nods. James, on the couch, looks serious.

He also nods.

“But.” Wally holds up a finger. “I’m glad you’re back.” He glances at James, makes a face, and returns to looking Piper in the eye. “Both of you.”


	37. Be My Valentine (Joe West & Barry Allen, CW'S Flash, G)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elementary School AU
> 
> Barry doesn't want to share his Valentine, Joe does not get paid enough for this.

Valentine’s Day at Keystone Elementary was a day fraught with trouble. Children, hyper on a regular day, were always especially hyper on a day which promised candy. Joe was damn sure that there wasn’t candy being exchanged between students when  _he_  was in elementary school. Back then, and Joe knew that his wife would have called him an old man for his thoughts,  _back then_  you had to  _hand make_  your valentines.

Now it was all cardboard cut-outs with whatever characters were popular on TV at the time. Oh, with suckers attached.

“Barry,” Joe had always known that having Barry in class with Iris was going to be trouble but what was he supposed to do? Send one of the kids over to Harrison Wells class? Not that Joe thought badly of Doctor Wells, there was just something about the man that rubbed him the wrong way. “We talked about this.”

“But Iris is  _my_  valentine!” Barry wailed. He was covered in heart and kiss mark stickers, Cisco’s work. He also had red glitter threaded through his blonde hair, that had been Caitlin after Barry had told her that Iris couldn’t be  _her_  Valentine because Iris was his. Tears glinted on the corners of his blue eyes.

Joe sighed and hunkered down next to Barry’s chair.

“Do you remember, last week, when Ronnie had his birthday?”

Barry nodded, sullen.

“And how his parents brought in a cake and we all made sure to cut it so there was a piece for everyone?”

Another nod.

“Valentine’s is just like that. It’s all about making sure that everyone in class gets a…” he couldn’t believe he was going to say this, “a slice of your love.”

“But,” Barry sniffled, “I love Iris  _best_.”


	38. Language Kink (Cheshire/Roy, M, bondage, auto-erotic asphyxiation)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3 Sentence Fic - Cheshire strangles Roy

The band around his neck was wide but strong, Roy was pretty sure it was his belt. Cheshire murmured sweet nothings in his ear, in English, Vietnamese, French, and Japanese (their first language), Roy understood the sentiment but not the words. Wrists gripped in one of Cheshire’s dainty hands while stars burst in front of his eyes Roy heard over and over ‘I love you’.


	39. Pleasure and Pain (Pamela Isley/Kate Kane, T)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3 Sentence AU - Noir Isley and kidnaps heiress Kate Kane

The heiress’s eyes glittered as ferociously as the diamonds wrapped in layers around her neck as thick as the ropes that bound her arms. Ivy murmured in Kate’s ear as she leaned down to secure her spoils. “Don’t look at me like that dear, really, it’s all business… though I did appreciate the chance to give you pleasure.”


	40. Legacies (Kyle/Connor, T)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3 Sentence AU - Kyle and Connor on the JLA

It wasn’t like they could hide their relationship very well when one of them lived on the JLA satellite (it was easier to commute that way!) and the other wasn’t exactly quiet once he lost his (kung-fu cool) sense of self restraint. The only reason Kyle and Connor thought they had hidden their relationship was because no one had brought it up. (In truth, everyone was just grateful that, unlike their predecessors, they kept any PDAs behind shut doors.)


	41. Synthetics (Poison Ivy/Dick Grayson, G)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3 Second AU - Dick as Ivy's sidekick

Dick coiled the zip line up and then clipped it to his belt, he heard a sigh from behind him before green skinned arms wrapped around his chest. “When will you leave those synthetics behind?”

Dick leaned back against a feminine body and allowed her rose like scent of to wash over him, “when you make vines I can swing on.”


	42. Howls (Booster/Ted, G)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3 Sentence Werewolf AU

“Awoooooooooo!!!” Booster released a howl to the skies, his tail shaking exaggeratedly fast as he caught onto the scent of his pack mate. From not too far away Ted joined in the howl (and farther away Booster heard Bea and Tora and Barda and Scott and their alphas; Sue and Ralph), Booster turned towards the sound of Ted’s howl and raced off.

When they met they crashed together, fur and tails and paws shifting into hands and skin and tight firm butts that said hands grasped while mouths and tongues battled in a way that their wolf forms never would.


	43. Silent Screams (Piper/Wally, Flashpoint AU, T)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3 Sentence AU challenge - Flashpoint

When Piper worried, it was soundless, when he sighed or cried or screamed, it was silent, it was only when he hooked on the mechanic monstrosity, that he was so grateful for Cyborg for, that he made sound again. Wally watched, every time, and he swore that one of these days they (together, he was going to propose, eventually) were going to get Cold and get Piper retribution.

Piper might not be able to speak ever again but maybe, maybe, Wally could get him to smile.


	44. Hipster Proving Ground (Roy/Kaldur, T)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaldur and Roy in a rock band AU.

He isn’t surprised when he gets back to the hotel room and finds Roy sitting on his bed. It takes a lot to surprise Kaldur and the fact that Roy likes to turn up in his hotel room is no longer one of those things. Roy’s seated on the edge of the bed, like he could be gone any minute despite the fact that he’s already taken off his shirt and committed himself. “You guys sounded good tonight.” Roy says.

Kaldur locks the door first before he toes off his shoes and walks into the hotel room. Lots of people thought that walking shoeless in a hotel room was asking for some sort of fungal infection but Kaldur hated shoes, he’d hated shoes since he was a kid growing up on the California coastline, running barefoot up and down the beaches and getting sand and surf everywhere, and he can’t stand wearing shoes now. Plus if he got an infection he’d probably sue the hotel or at least the band’s manager would. “You should have told us you were going to see the show.” It’s an old complaint. Tickets to Young Justice’s concerts aren’t cheap, plus Dick and Wally complain that Kaldur hoards Roy.

Roy shrugs and for a minute Kaldur wants to shake Roy to see if anything would get through the man’s nonchalance. “I didn’t make up my mind until this morning anyway.”

There are a lot of things he could say to that. The concert was sold out two days after tickets went on sale which was close to six months ago, Kaldur could mention that Roy really can’t afford to buy his own tickets because his solo career is still just hipster proving ground (‘Oh, I really like Red Arrow, you’ve probably never heard of him.’) and if he thinks he’s keeping the side jobs he’s been pulling a secret he’s kidding himself and only himself. He could call Roy out on the fact that no one cares that he wants to pretend he doesn’t care. But he doesn’t say any of these things, just like Roy never brings up Garth and Tula, or Kaldur’s awkward break from Atlantis Industries, or how Kaldur’s ended up den-mother to a group of teenage rockstars.

Instead, they kiss.

Roy pulls Kaldur back onto the bed with a hand on the back of his neck and Kaldur lets him, he lets Roy pull him down on top of him and plants a hand on top of the rough hotel bedspread to balance. They stay that way at first, kissing until they need to break for air. Roy tugs Kaldur’s tank top off before smoothing increasingly roughed hands down Kaldur’s arms.

Roy loves his tattoos.

It doesn’t take long for them to get naked, Roy pressing needy kisses to the black lines that define Kaldur’s skin, Kaldur holding Roy like it’ll get him to stay.

It never does and hours later, sticky and sated and waking from a doze, Kaldur will not be surprised to find that Roy is gone.


End file.
